


thick as thieves

by madetine



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 18:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17730245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madetine/pseuds/madetine
Summary: "She knew those three little words would destroy them." In the aftermath of the Promised Day, Roy and Riza come to terms with their feelings for each other. Royai.





	1. Chapter One

AN: Many thanks to my wonderful beta, pen 'n notebook! And thank you for clicking on my story, I hope that you like it! Title and the song lyrics in the summary are from one of my favorite Natalie Merchant songs. Please let me know what you think! Also, please tell me if the formatting is hard to read; this is my first post on this site and it's a little foreign to me.

* * *

 

The sun was bright and hot, just as Riza remembered it. And yet it chilled her to the bone. Who would be afraid of a beautiful sunny day? But with each passing minute, the sun climbed higher in the sky, the train chugged forward, and dread grew heavier in her chest.

 “It’s amazing how you can do that without even looking.”

 Riza drew her gaze away from the train window and focused on Jean Havoc, who was grinning at her. He had been sitting next to her since they started their trip very early that morning, and while his normally sunny disposition was slightly dampened by their looming destination, he had spent the last couple hours trying to put a smile on her face.

 “What?” She realized that her hands had stilled and she looked down at her lap. On top of the open pages of a book (some mystery novel that had failed to capture her attention) lay the mechanics of one of her firearms. Clutched in her fingers was the grip and barrel of the gun. Had she been assembling it or disassembling it? She felt even more dismay. She was always so attentive when holding her weapons because she knew the destruction that they caused, and she hated that she had been so careless while she was lost in thought. “Oh. Just practice, I guess.”

 “I bet. You could probably do it in your sleep.”

 She hummed in affirmation, focusing now on reassembling the weapon. Her nimble fingers made quick work of the job and she tucked the gun back into her side holster. She picked up her book again.

 Havoc continued, turning his attention to the dark haired man sitting across from them. “You ever perform alchemy in your sleep, Chief?”

 Head down, Riza raised her gaze to regard the man sitting in front of her. He stared out the window, but he was quick to respond.

 “It’s been a long time since I’ve fallen asleep wearing my gloves.”

 In her mind’s eye, she saw him next to her, fast asleep, covered in dust from head to toe. She laid on her belly, elbows resting on the windowsill, rifle clutched in her hands as she looked out across the desolation below. He came up to visit her sometimes when she was on guard duty and he was supposed to be sleeping. They talked idly for a few hours until he would slip into a restless slumber. She covered him with her dirty robe to shield him from the chilly desert night air. And his sandy gloves remained on his hands, curled into loose fists. She was glad to see his fingers relaxed, knowing the guilt that he felt about the destruction that they caused.

 She didn’t mind his visits at all. If anything, his presence soothed her anxious spirit. She was so young when she was sent to war, pulled from the academy while she was still wet behind the ears because she was singled out as a weapon for the military. And every single day was a cacophony of terror that was inflicted by her hands. But with him beside her, her hands felt steadier, her eyes were keener, and she didn’t feel the pull of sleep. She felt like less of a killer and more of a protector. When the sun began to rise over the horizon, she allowed herself to look at him, and with onefinger on the trigger of her rifle, she shook him awake with her free hand.

 That was seven years ago, but the memories were so vivid that it seemed like a bad dream from which she had just awoken. And now they were headed back to that dreadful place.

 Ishval. She could see the crumbling ruins in the distance now, inching closer and closer by the second.

 Havoc, meanwhile swiveled and his seat and started up a conversation with Breda on the other side of him. But Riza’s eyes stayed on the Colonel. He was back to looking out the window, his mouth set into a firm line. There was a crease between his eyebrows. He would not admit it, but he was worried- and while he put up a confident front as always, she could read his face easily.

 He was remembering too.

 

* * *

 

“This is the place,” Falman announced. He gripped his suitcase in one hand and a worn, creased map in the other, which he held aloft. He led them to a building on the outskirts of town. It was a simple, two-story house that was dilapidated by the standards of a similar structure in most other towns. But in Ishval it was a rarity with walls that were intact and hardly touched by mortar shells, and the team was promised that there were oil lamps and running water.

 They filed inside, all of them relieved to see a clean interiorthat was largely free from sand particles. It had a simple layout, just a sitting room and a small kitchen off the side of a large bedroom on the ground floor, and two bedrooms upstairs. The local authorities had made them aware ahead of time that there were three twin beds and a pull out couch in the large bedroom on the lower level, and a master bedroom with a smaller bedroom beside it. Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery had drawn straws on the train ride over to determine who would be sleeping on the couch, but they still squabbled as they entered the downstairs bedroom, and there was a rustle as they claimed beds.

 Riza looked over at the Colonel, and he motioned to the stairs to show that she could go first. When they made their way to the upper level the floorboards creaked beneath their feet as they arrived in the hallway that lead to the two single bedrooms.

 “You should take the master bedroom,” he offered, turning to her.

 She shook her head. “You’re the C.O. It’s only right that you take it.” She peeked inside. It was much bigger than any bedroom that she had ever had. There was a large bed in the center- a king or queen, she couldn’t tell- and a wooden chair by the window, which overlooked the town. “Besides, I’ve never slept in a bed that big before.”

 “All the more reason for you to take it.” He moved behind her into the smaller room, and she heard a soft _thump_ as he cast his suitcase onto the bed. “Besides, don’t you want to be first in line if there’s danger in the hall?”

 As always, he predicted her response. “Yes, sir.” Striding into the room, she laid her small suitcase on a chair in the corner. She hadn’t packed much, just the basics that she would need over the next two weeks that they would be staying in Ishval.

 “It’s oh-ten hundred,” she called to him. “What time do you want to convene?”

 The walls were thin because she could hear his voice very clearly. “We should give the men a chance to rest.” She understood the logic; it had been a long train ride and they had all woken up early. Besides, they didn’t have any meetings until tomorrow. “Maybe after lunch.”

 “Good idea.”

 “I’m not hungry yet. Do you want to go find something to eat in an hour?” His voice was closer now and she glanced back to see him standing in the doorway, his hand on the frame.

 Riza nodded and moved towards the chair with her suitcase, unzipping it to pull out her bag of toiletries. She angled her body so that her back was to him, so that he could not see the package wrapped in brown paper that was tucked between neatly folded piles of civilian clothing. They had decided that given the Ishvallan’s distrust of the State Military that it would be better to not wear their uniforms during their visit. “I’ll meet you back here, sir. I want to go on a walk first.” Her legs felt cramped from sitting in a crowded train car and she was interested in seeing how the town had progressed since they had last stayed there. From what she had seen in their short trip from the train station, there were a lot of reconstruction projects that had captured her eye. Maybe if she witnessed them she would feel better about their stay.

 Out of the corner of her eye she saw him frown. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lieutenant. We should stick together until we know the area better.”

 “It’ll be alright, sir. I won’t go too far. And I can take care of myself.” She cast him a wary smile, which he didn’t return.

 “Alright,” he conceded after a moment. “But if you don’t come back in an hour we’ll come looking for you.”

 She nodded. “That’s fair. Now can you please stop fretting over me?”

 “Yes, ma’am,” he returned. She looked up to see a grin playing across his lips before he gently closed the door. The smile on her face returned, this time in earnest as she heard his footsteps fading down the hall. The men didn’t seem to pay her much notice as she left the house.

 

* * *

 

There were already a lot of Ishvalans that had moved back into the town, and as she walked the streets she marveled at the number of people bustling around. She made her way to the center of the town where she knew that the market place was. Stalls with brightly colored canvas awnings lined the streets and alleys. The some vendors noticed her immediately, and many tried to call her over to their stall, but she was mostly regarded with suspicious stares. She knew that she was an obvious outsider with her fair skin and golden hair.

 “Amestrian!”

 Riza looked over at the sound of the voice and found it coming from a dark booth. She could see a lone woman sitting inside, beckoning to her. Riza wasn’t sure why, but she decided to look over.

 “You are looking for something,” the woman crooned, beckoning her closer still. She was sitting behind a round table.

 “I haven’t seen anything that I want to buy,” the lieutenant answered.

 The woman laughed and shook her head. “What you are looking for cannot be bought, young woman.” When Riza stared at her blankly, she motioned to a chair. “Come, sit.”

 Riza ducked under the awning and took the seat. Beneath her feet laid a richly textured rug, and around the stall, crystals glistened in the dim light. “I didn’t think that your faith allowed fortune telling.”

“I only divine what Ishvalla’s vision,” the old woman told her. “I illuminate the way to people who are searching for his light.”

Riza shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not a believer.”

 “It doesn’t matter. Ishvalla has given me this gift so that I might help those who need it. Would you like to know more?”

 She hesitated. She certainly didn’t think that she needed help, but she was interested to learn more about the culture. All of her previous experiences in Ishval had been about destroying the people who lived there, and now was the time to nurture them. “How much does it cost?”

 The old woman laughed. “For heretics, it is free. You may draw one card for you to show you your fate.”

 Riza pursed her lips together but nodded. “Alright.”

The woman produced a worn stack of cards, and Riza watched as she shuffled them between her weathered hands. After a minute, she stopped and set down the stack before fanning it out on the table between them. “Choose a card. It is yours.”

Hesitantly, Riza picked one of the cards and turned it over. On the face there was a man and a woman, naked and holding hands. There was Ishvallan lettering at the bottom that she could not decipher. “What does it mean?”

 “Ah,” the woman chuckled, her red eyes glinting. “It is very interesting that you draw this card. It is very powerful. It means a union of duality. It signifies a force that binds two entities together to create wholeness. But it is not absolute- a choice must be made. You must decide what path on which to embark to become whole.”

 Skeptically, Riza stared at the card. “How I am supposed to know what path to take?”

 “Ishvalla gives us the materials to find what we seek. He will show you the way. But you must first open your eyes to what is inside of you.”

 Riza swallowed. “The writing here, at the bottom… what does it mean?”

 The woman smiled, showing rows of teeth yellowed by age. “It is the name of the card. It is called _The Lovers_.”


	2. Chapter Two

AN: Thank you very much for the bookmarks and kudos! They really mean a lot to me. And thank you to my wonderful beta, pen n’ notebook. I hope that you all like this chapter; if you do, please leave a review! Also, I wanted to note that descriptions of the tarot card in the previous chapter are from my personal deck, Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck, made by Matt Hughes. It’s available on Amazon and if you’re looking for a deck I highly recommend it because it’s gorgeous. Just remember that it’s bad luck to buy a tarot deck for yourself, so get someone else to buy it for you!

 

* * *

 

As soon as Riza stepped over the threshold of the rented house, she was greeted with the worried gaze of five sets of eyes. With a straight face, she stared back at them and shut the door behind her.

Roy spoke first. He strode over to her, eyes roaming up and down her body for any signs of distress. “Where were you? We were just going to go out and look for you!”

Impassively, Riza humored him by letting him examine her with his gaze. “As you can see, sir, I am perfectly fine.” She glanced at the time piece on her wrist. “I was only gone for forty-five minutes or so.”

“It’s been over an hour, Lieutenant. Let me see your watch.”

Stony but somewhat amused, she unstrapped her timepiece and handed it to him, watching as he fiddled with it and pulled out his own watch for comparison.

“Well, we’re hungry,” Havoc declared, breaking the moment of silence. “Can we go out and look for something to eat?”

“I passed a cafe on my way back,” Riza offered. “It didn’t look like much but it smelled good.”

Roy snapped his pocket watch closed and tucked it in his jacket before passing Riza’s watch back to her, which she slipped back on her wrist after checking the face. It had indeed been off time and he had set it back to be matched with his. She didn’t know how that had happened because they kept their timepieces perfectly synchronized. But then, it was an old watch. The leather strap was well worn, and even after he re-set it the hands ticked in place instead of moving forward. “Let’s go then,” he announced. “Lunch is on the State Military.”

The men cheered and passed the two superior officers. Riza followed them, glancing at the Colonel. “You know that this means one more expense report for you to write.”

He groaned. “Don’t be so pessimistic, Hawkeye.” Riza just shook her head but she almost stopped in her tracks when she felt Roy’s hand on the small of her back, guiding her out the door. She looked back at him, expecting to see a smirk directed her way, but his face was innocuous. She realized that the motion was so natural to him that he hadn’t realized that he had done it. It wasn’t like them at all; their interactions with each other were normally so conscientious. The influence of the desert town pulled at his thoughts as well. They would have to be even more careful than they normally were. He paused to lock the door behind them, then turned to her, raising his eyebrows as he realized that she had been watching him. But he didn’t acknowledge her heedful gaze.

“Lead the way, Lieutenant.”

 

* * *

 

The day passed into evening. Riza willingly allowed herself to be cajoled into playing several rounds of poker with the unit to help pass the time, as they had nothing better to do anyway. Meetings with local community leaders started the next day, and the men were restless. They lamented that there was no alcohol to be found in town, due to the Ishvallan’s strict views on temperance. Fortunately, Sergeant Fuery had the wherewithal to pack a bag of poker chips in his suitcase. After many rounds, Riza and Lieutenant Breda sat with the most chips in front of them. Breda was a brilliant strategist with a keen mind, but Riza’s poker face was simply unbeatable, and after counting their piles of chips he conceded victory to her. By that time the sun hung low in the sky. They decided to call it a night, and retreated to their rooms.

In her room, Riza stripped off her clothes and changed into a crisp pair of striped pajamas. She let her hair down from the clip she had been wearing, shaking out the crimps with her fingertips. Regretfully, she realized that she had forgotten to pack slippers, and in the chill of the night air her bare feet were cold on the wooden floor. From her suitcase she retrieved the package that she had carefully hidden from the colonel’s eyes earlier in the day. With the brown paper wrapping crinkling in her hand, she left her bedroom to knock on the door next to hers.

“Who is it?” The deep voice asked on the other side of the door.

“It’s me,” she answered. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, I’m decent,” came the reply. She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. He had also changed into pajamas, expect his were blue, and his black eyes looked down at her quizzically. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”

Riza held out the package to him. “Happy birthday, sir.”

He frowned in confusion but took it from her. “It’s not...” His words faltered as realization dawned on his face. “Damn, it is my birthday.” He looked up at her with widened eyes. “You remembered.”

A faint smile curved the corners of her lips, just a little bit to show that she was sincere but teasing him, and she nodded in affirmation. “It’s a big one this year.”

Roy unwrapped the package slowly, letting the paper fall to the ground. She watched as he marveled at the bottle in his hands. “You got me whiskey.”

“Yes, sir. Thirty years old, just like you.”

“Thank you.” He grinned at her at her and she felt a familiar tug of affection in her chest. Sitting back down on the slim bed, he pulled at the exposed cork stopper until it unplugged the opening with an audible pop. “Have a drink with me, Hawkeye.”

She hesitated, but after a moment decided that it would be okay to take a seat beside him. “I don’t have any glasses,” she admitted.

“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” He smirked at her and after she nodded her consent, he took a swig from the bottle and passed it to her. “You know that Daliha is a dry town, Lieutenant.”

“I am aware, sir, but I trust your discretion on that issue. Unless you are willing to write me up for it.” While he chuckled Riza took a drink and quickly cringed at the burn in the back of her throat, choking back a cough. She handled the bottle back to him and watched as his adam’s apple bobbed when he took a gulp of the fiery liquid.

“You know this brings me back to the first time I had whiskey.” When she raised an eyebrow, he continued. “It was your first time as well, if I am not mistaken.”

“You mean when we picked the lock on my father’s liquor cabinet?” She smiled at the memory and took another mouthful from the bottle. The burn was not as prominent this time, and she was able to savor the smoky flavor. “Let’s see… I was fourteen, so you must have been seventeen.”

“That sounds about right. Madame allowed me to have a little wine and beer before, but that was my first time drinking liquor.” He took the bottle from her and consumed another gulp before handing it back to her. “I think that was also the first time I made you laugh.”

“Yes, because you told me that awful dirty joke. ‘ _What does a leper say after having sex with a prostitute?_ ’” She took another drink, longer this time.

“’ _Keep the tip_ ’”, he answered, laughing boisterously. Feeling the buzz of the liquor, Riza snickered as well, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle the noise. “Alice told me that one.” She recognized the name as one of his sisters’ from his childhood.

“It’s disgusting. And don’t be so loud,” she chastised, although there was a smile on her lips. “You’ll wake up the men.”

“I think those are the exact words you said to me, except you were talking about your father.” When he collected the bottle from her again, he slipped a little closer to her side, resting one hand on the mattress behind her. “Do you think he ever found out?”

She shook her head, the memories of her strict upbringing coming to her mind. “He would have said something to me if he did.” Roy passed the bottle to her and she accepted it. “Are you going to make a birthday wish?”

“Don’t you have blow out candles on a cake to do that?” He waited for her to take a gulp before he took the bottle back.

Riza shrugged. “A cake would have gotten smashed in my suitcase. Also, I am much better at making pies.”

“Your pies are remarkably good,” he admitted. “How come you never make them anymore?”

“I live alone, Colonel,” she reminded him. “I don’t have anyone to share them with.”

“That is true.” He tilted his head to the side pensively “You could bring them into the office. I let you bring your dog into the office, you could at the very least bring in a pie. It would be good for morale.”

Without realizing it, she mirrored his actions as she considered his proposal. “I suppose that would work.”

They passed the bottle back and forth again, taking drinks before he spoke. “So, about my birthday wish...” He made a big show of tapping his chin thoughtfully and she rolled her eyes. While normally more indulgent of his playful antics, the alcohol in her system was making her feel a little more… exaggerated. “I’ve decided what I want.”

“What’s that, sir?”

He grinned, deliberately making her wait a moment in silence for dramatic effect. “I want a kiss,” he announced, keeping his voice low.

Riza snorted. “You might have to put in more effort than you normally do, sir, but I’m sure that with your particular talents you could find a pretty young woman to woo.”

He chuckled and leaned over to set the bottle on the floor, watching her the whole time. “No, Lieutenant, I want a kiss from you.”

With the whiskey in her system it took her a moment to process what he had said, and her mouth fell open in shock. It wasn’t that she had never considered what he proposed. Not at all. In fact, she thought about sharing a kiss with him more often than she cared to admit, even to herself. Every time he looked at her with his dark, smoldering gaze she couldn’t help but imagine how his mouth would feel against hers. She knew that he felt the same way- she saw how he would watch the movement of her lips when they stood close together. But she never thought that he would be so direct about it; after all, even a simple kiss could leave to them both being court martialed. They both knew better than to indulge in something so dangerous.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he said quickly, holding up his hands to pacify her. He swayed a bit and she realized that he was drunk too. He had to be to say something so absurd, a weak voice in her head rationalized. Her eyes flickered to the large scars on his palms before they returned to his face. “But no one will know.”

_They would know_ , she thought. And they would have to live with it for the rest of their lives and fight the temptation to ever do it again. It would open the door to all sorts of behavior that they fought to indulge in with every interaction that they shared. It was a horrible, awful, terrible idea, and she nearly opened her mouth to tell him so. But her head swam with the liquor’s influence, and she found herself reconsidering. The heady, dizzy feeling dampened her good sense. The image of a man and woman flit through her mind. They were as naked as their feelings and standing against the background of a lush paradise. They were free.

Riza wanted to be free.

For all of his bravado, she could tell that he was surprised as she turned her body towards him and gently placed her hand on his knee. He took a shaky breath as she angled her mouth towards his until their lips were just barely apart. With her eyes closed, she felt his hand glide up her arm and shoulder to cup her throat... right over her recently healed stitches.

Instantly, her eyes snapped open as she winced in pain and pulled away. What the hell had she been thinking? No longer lost in the moment, she felt mortified, like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her. Her blood pounded in her head as she rose to her feet. He quickly grasped for her hand, but his fingers slipped through hers.

“I.. I’m sorry, sir,” her voice faltered. His expression was pained and she couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the middle distance to the left of his ear. “I made a mistake.”

“Wait, Riz- Lieutenant-” he struggled to get the words out. “Don’t go-”

But she was already striding out the door. As she quickly entered the safety of her bedroom, she heard him curse on the other side of the wall.


	3. Chapter Three

AN: As a note, the dirty joke in the previous chapter is by shittyshittymorph from the Reddit thread on r/AskReddit: “What’s your favorite dirty joke?” I can’t take credit for it; I just thought that it was funny. Thank you to my amazing beta, pen n’ notebook, and thank you for the kudos! They really drive me to keep going. I hope that you like this chapter too!

 

* * *

 

_It always starts the same, with a bright flash of yellow and red. Fear grips him as the blaze swirls unbidden from his fingertips and billows into an inferno that fades into brown-gray smoke. The sight is accompanied by the smell that haunts him- char, iron, sulphur- and the cloyingly sweet undertone of death. The fire doesn’t reach far, because it has enveloped someone close to him, someone who is always by his side. As always he is physically unscathed; the fire never comes closer than the length of his arm. But while his body is unharmed, he feels like half of his soul is burning alive in the flames that he has created. And the smoke blankets everything, drawing him in into the void..._

A shout sounded in Roy’s ears and he awoke with a start, sitting up in bed. He gasped for breath, pulling air into his lungs so fast that it made his head swim. The shout, he realized, had been his own. It rang through the small room and he clutched at his sweaty forehead.

Not five seconds later the door swung open and footsteps pounded across the floor, leading to his bed. In the pitch dark room he could make out the figure of a woman.

“Colonel!” Riza exclaimed breathlessly, crouching by the bed at his side. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head from side to side, trying to orient himself. “It’s nothing… just night terrors.”

There was a clang of metal against wood as she set her gun down on the floor. She groped for the lamp on the night stand and flicked it on, bringing light into the small room. It swirled around them and when his stomach lurched he realized that he was still drunk. Raising his head, he saw that her brown eyes were large and filled with concern.

Suddenly the memory of their almost kiss came flooding back and he felt a rush of shame. After what he had put her through, she still held fast to her protective duties, never questioning her purpose. After all of their years together, he still marveled at her strong devotion to him. Now, more than ever, he felt like he didn’t deserve it. “I’m sorry to wake you,” he added, feeling foolish.

“It’s alright,” she soothed, laying gentle hands on his arm and upper back. Her voice was soft to his ears and he found himself relaxing.

Nodding, he felt his breathing slow to a normal pace and he focused on the swirling patterns on the blanket covering his legs and feet. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, sir.”

It wasn’t nothing. Not to him at least. Turning his gaze towards her, he studied her face, which was half illuminated by the lamp. Her hair was tousled from sleep and he fought the urge to smooth it out with his hands. Her eyes met his steadily and he drew from her endless strength. She had to know how much he needed her in every way.

“Will you be alright if I leave?” She asked, pulling him from his introspection.

 _No_ , was the first thought in his mind. Her presence was so comforting and he wanted the moment to last longer. But he didn’t want her to worry about him. He worried her enough already.

“Yes, I’m alright,” he told her finally. “You can go back to bed.”

“Okay.” She lifted her hands from his body and then picked her gun off the floor and rose to her feet. “If you need anything… just call for me. You don’t have to be loud. I’ll hear you.”

It didn’t surprise him to hear that she was a light sleeper, because he was as well. He used to be able to sleep more deeply. When he was living in her father’s house, or in his bedroom at Madame’s, he struggled to wake up in the morning. He remembered one particular incident where, after knocking on his door and shouting intermittently for a half hour, Riza barged her way in and shook him by his shoulders until he woke up. While he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and asking her what the big deal was (wasn’t he allowed to sleep in every once and awhile?) she admitted with a forlorn look and downcast eyes that she had found her mother in the same condition a few years ago. Except her mother had not awoken from her sleep. That was the first time he silently vowed to never make her worry about him again.

But being at war had changed his sleeping habits. While fighting he had to train his body to be alert at all times. Now the smallest noise woke him; be it a quiet footstep, the voices of strangers walking by his home late at night, or the creaking, groaning, and settling of his house when it was pitch dark. Rest never came easily, and when morning finally came he was still bone tired. Sitting in his warm office at his desk all day made him drowsy but when he finally came home and laid down in his bed, it took him hours to fall asleep. And when sleep did come, violent nightmares woke him up, leaving him too shaken up to rest again.

After she left, he stayed awake for awhile, staring at the ceiling in the dark. The buzz of alcohol still lingering in his system finally lulled him back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

A knock on the door woke Roy the next morning, and he sat up in bed quickly. Immediately he regretted the action, as his head began to throb from pain. His entire body ached. That’s when he remembered the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before.

Laboriously, he rose from the bed and made his way to the door, fighting a groan. While he had experienced many hangovers in his life, from drinking even more liquor, this was worse. His mind was stuck on those few seconds where time stood still because his lips had almost kissed Riza- no, his loyal first lieutenant, he had to remember that. He wondered how he could ever look her in the eye again, or if she would ever forgive him.

He opened the door and sucked in a breath. She was standing there in front of him. His gaze searched her face for any signs of anger or hostility but he found nothing. Her expression was as impassive as always, but he could always read her eyes, and he could tell that she was hurting.

“Are you okay?” he asked instantly, forgetting his aching head for a minute while he looked at her with concern.

“I’m fine.” Her voice dropped and he realized that she was trying to be quiet so that the men downstairs didn’t hear her. He could hear them bustling around in the kitchen right below them as they ate breakfast. “Just hung over.” She held out her hands to him and he saw that she was holding a glass of water and a couple of round white pills. “I figured you would be too. Take these.”

“Thank you.” He scooped the pills from her outstretched hand and swallowed them, chasing them with a gulp of water. She watched him intently.

Was she mad at him? The question burned in his mind. “Lieutenant,” he began quietly, “about last night...”

“Nothing happened.” Her voice was crisp. “Therefore, there is nothing to discuss.”

“Right.” So she was mad, but not at him. She was mad at herself. Given her high morals and reserved nobility, he should have figured as much,. She had taken his flirtation as a product of the alcohol, and she was upset that she had almost given in. And she was telling him to just forget about the whole thing.

But he couldn’t do that. Every moment that she opened up to him, he treasured. He wanted her to trust him enough for her to relinquish a small amount of self-control.

For her sake, though, he would quell those thoughts. And he would never bring it up again.

“I told the men that you would be ready in about an hour,” she said, oblivious to his inner thoughts. “I figured that you would need time to get ready, in case you wanted to rest longer.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “There’s no need for that. I just need to shower, shave, and get dressed.”

“Alright. If you’re sure.”

After he nodded in consent she turned and walked down the hall. He grabbed a towel and walked into the bathroom to shower.

 

* * *

 

It was late morning when they set out to the rendezvous point where Riza and the colonel would be meeting Scar. The sun wasn’t at its full strength yet, but it was already burning every exposed inch of Riza’s fair skin, and the bright light strained her tender, hung-over eyes. Glad that she had grown her hair long, she tugged at the strands and arranged them so that they covered the back of her neck to shield her flesh from the strong rays.

She followed Roy through town. The Ishvalans working on rebuilding the decayed buildings stopped their construction as the pair of them as they passed, glaring at them with red eyes.Riza’s guilt burned as bright as the sun above them. The ire that the Ishvalans had for her and the man that she followed was justified. She deserved their disdain, after the way that she decimated their loved ones, and she knew that her superior officer felt the same.

Her gaze scanned the crowds of people. The last time that she was in Ishval, she had regarded them mostly through the scope of her rifle. Now she studied their tan faces up close and individually. The hate that she saw in their eyes fueled her desire to right the wrongs that they committed. The only way that she could atone for her sins was to face them fully.

They reached their destination. In the pavilion in front of them stretched a small table. Scar sat at one end. He raised his level gaze to meet them. “Greetings. How was your journey?”

“It was fine, thank you.” Roy took the seat across from him, with Riza sitting down at his side. “And thank you for meeting with us.”

“I will do what is best for Ishval,” The older man intoned, locking eyes with Roy. “Although I do not like you, alchemist, I will aide you in your quest to rehabilitate my homeland.”

Roy nodded. Riza registered that he was perturbed by the way that his back straightened and the crease reappeared between his eyebrows. They were actions that were almost imperceptible, but to her they said everything. While her posture was always perfect, she deliberately shifted in her seat to let her shoulder brush against his upper arm. He didn’t look at her but his expression relaxed.

“Thank you,” he told the Ishvalan, although Riza knew that it was partially directed at her.

Scar continued, and if he was cognizant of the careful intricacies of the two officers’ body language, he said nothing. “You and your military destroyed our land. But I see that you have genuine interest in righting the wrongs that you committed. I hear the country of Armestis has not fully supported the decision that you made to help us. But I and my people thank you for what you are doing. You have made the right choice.”

The two men started talking about the government’s investment of crops in the region, and Riza slipped into her usual role of adjutant by taking notes with the materials that she carried. She dutifully paid attention to the conversation, but her thoughts circled back to one work that Scar spoke: choice.

“ _But it is not absolute- a choice must be made. You must decide what path on which to embark to become whole”._

She pondered the statement. She didn’t understand the point of “becoming whole”, because she didn’t understand what was wrong with her in the first place. Riza certainly didn’t think that she was perfect, but she worked her to achieve the rank that she enjoyed now. She tried to think of what was missing from her life. She had few friends, but the ones that she did have, she loved dearly. Her job was hard- to put it lightly- but she found it fulfilling, because she knew that she was working towards a greater good. What else did she need?

And the old woman had said that she had to “ _open her eyes to what was inside her_ ”. Riza wasn’t sure what that meant. While her life had been far from ideal, she refused to let herself be mired by introspection. From what she had experienced, people who thought about themselves too much tended to get weighed down by their own emotions, and she couldn’t afford to do that. Not when there was so much at stake. There were simply too many people who depended on her.

She remembered one thing that King Bradley had told her when she was his adjutant. Facing out the window and looking into the rain, he recounted how the only choice that he had truly made in his life had been his wife. With a sinking stomach, Riza realized what he was implying. She made all of the decisions that lead her to the point in her life where she was, but what she really wanted was the one thing that she couldn’t have- the person that she wanted most.

Her stomach twisted. She had friends, rank, and the position to rebuild Ishval, but she wasn’t happy. And the notion of that- the realization that, despite her achievements and accomplishments, she was a mere slave to her desire- stirred something inside her that she rarely experienced.

Fear.


	4. Chapter Four

AN: Thank you very much for the kudos and reviews! And thank you to my wonderful beta, pen n' notebook. If you like this story, please review. It really fuels me to keep going!

 

* * *

 

The next night, Roy lay in bed, watching the stars in the sky outside his window, when he heard a shriek. He recognized the woman’s voice immediately. Ripping the sheets from his bed, he rushed into the next room.

He found Riza writhing in bed, crying out in her sleep. While her eyes were closed, her face was drawn in horror as she tangled in the blankets. The sight wrenched at him and he climbed over the bed to shake her awake. “Lieutenant,” he called to her. “Hawkeye, wake up.”

Emitting a moan, she finally opened her eyes. He could see that her dilated pupils fought to focus on him. He wanted to draw her to his chest and hold her, but he refrained from doing so. Instead he settled on his knees as she sat up and tried to wipe the sweat from her brow, brushing her bangs back from her pale face. Tentatively, he rested one hand between her shoulder blades.

“So you get them too,” he stated softly, watching her nod.

They never talked about the war after they left Ishval. He had never brought it up because he thought that she didn’t want to relive any of the memories, but now he wondered if she had extended the same consideration for him. The atrocities they committed weighed heavily on their shoulders, and they had both tried to protect the other by not discussing it.

The floorboards creaked outside the room in the hall and they both looked up, spines straightening, to see Falman standing in the hallway. “I was up reading and I heard a scream. Is everything alright?” He looked between the two of them, worried, and Roy wondered how it looked for him to see his commanding officer sitting on a bed beside his female subordinate.

“It’s fine, Falman. The lieutenant just had a nightmare.” Roy looked down at her and she nodded before he continued. “You can go back to bed. We’re alright up here.”

“Okay. Goodnight, sirs.” The other man didn’t look convinced but he left them, and Roy waited until he heard the door close downstairs before he spoke again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she told him, but he could hear the tremor in her voice. “Like you said, it was just a nightmare.”

“Was it about the war?” He didn’t want to pry, but he was concerned. He wanted to help her. She nodded silently and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you had night terrors too.”

“I didn’t want to burden you with it,” she said, confirming his earlier thoughts. “I know that you have your own demons.”

“It’s not a burden. Not at all.” That she could think such a thing was was ludicrous to him. “There shouldn’t be any secrets between us.” He watched her and she finally looked up at him, meeting his gaze. The color returned to her face, he saw with relief.

“I trust you,” she whispered fiercely. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

Something stirred in his chest and he swallowed it down. He remembered the night before, and how her presence soothed him. Just being near her was comforting. While he spent much of the morning hung over, it was her nearness that gave him solace when they were talking to Scar. He needed her nearby to embolden him. “I was thinking… can I stay in here for awhile, with you?”

He anticipated her reaction, and sure enough, her face set into a firm expression. “Sir, you know that would be inappropriate. It’s night and you should be in your own room.” He knew that she was thinking about the kiss that they almost shared and how big of a mistake it was in her eyes.

“We wouldn’t be breaking any rules. The laws are that a commanding officer and a subordinate can’t have any sexual or romantic relationships. This would be strictly platonic. We don’t even have to touch each other.” Her countenance remained skeptical and he pushed forward. “Look, Hawkeye… being back here is difficult, and when I’m with you, I’m at ease. I feel reassured, because I know that you’re going to protect me.”

Riza cast her eyes down to the sheets over her lap. He knew that she was conflicted by the way that her brow furrowed. He saw the indent of her cheek as she bit the inside of her mouth as she thought. It was such a small tell, and to anyone else it would be completely insignificant, but it was a break from her usual completely undemonstrative expression. It was clear to him that she wanted to him to stay, but she worried about his proximity. The almost kiss loomed in her thoughts. For a moment he expected her to tell him to leave, and he braced himself for her rejection, but when she looked up at him her eyes were soft. Scooting over to give him space, she watched him expectantly. He smiled gently and slipped onto the bed, sitting about two feet away from her. The mattress dipped under his weight. “No one can know,” she reminded him sternly.

He raised his hands to show his honesty. “No one will know. I just want to sit with you for awhile, that’s all.”

“Alright.” She settled into the bed on her back. The moon was full outside her window and it illuminated her face and creamy skin. Roy gazed at her, studying the sweep of her golden hair against her pillow, and the way her her thick, dark eyelashes graced her cheekbones when she blinked. She turned her face towards him and captured his gaze, and he realized that he was caught. “What is it, sir?”

“Don’t you ever get tired of saying that?” Hoping that his tone was so smooth that she wouldn’t notice that he had changed the subject, he waved one hand expressively. “’Yes sir, no sir’?” When he was her father’s apprentice she would call him by his given name, but that was a long time ago. It changed when they met up at Ishval during the war. From then on she always addressed him with an honorific. He figured that he would never hear his name on her lips again.

“No, sir,” she responded automatically, and he chuckled.

“No, I don’t suppose that you do. You’re always the perfect soldier, even when you have a gun to my head.”

Her expression was as unflappable again. “Those are my orders, sir.”

“Yes, I know.” Of course he knew. A moment of silence passed between them before he spoke again. “I have been thinking about what Scar said today… about making the right choices.”

His statement caught her attention and she flipped onto her side, facing him. “What do you mean?”

Roy looked away from her and her curious expression. He knew that she wouldn’t like his next question, and he didn’t want to see the light in her eyes dim. “Do you think that your life would be better if we had never met?”

“No,” She asserted. He didn’t need to see her to know that she was frowning. He could hear it in her voice. “Why, do you?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “All the time.”

He still remembered it clearly- the day that he left her to join the military. She stood on the porch of her family home wearing her school uniform that she had grown out of and a somber expression, although she tried to smile for his benefit. He wanted to tell her then- how he felt about her. She knew, of course. He figured that she knew what was in his heart as long as he did, because their hearts were the same. But maybe if he voiced the actual words then, things would have been different. If she would have just stayed there, in her hometown, in that old house, he would have come back for her; and they would have been happy together.

Instead she followed him into the military and into the war, and that beautiful idea of a life had slipped from their grasp. Now, because of the atrocities committed at their hands, happiness was something that they could never hope to achieve.

But if he had never come into her life, she would not have made the damnable choice to join the military. She was resourceful, clever, and driven. She could have chosen any path that she wanted. And he was certain that any other path would have led her to be safer and happier than working under him and performing every hellacious bidding that he commanded. She had agreed to be his assistant, that was sure, and she faithfully obeyed his order to keep him on the right course. But sometimes the intrusive thought nagged at him- that he was asking too much of her. The image of her laying in a transmutation circle as the life bled out of her was something that he could never forget.

Riza sighed, clearly frustrated. “Colonel, I told you a million times before, don’t worry about me. You need to worry about yourself.”

“But you worry about me all the time,” he countered.

“Sir, look at me,” she insisted. It was an order that she didn’t have the right to issue to her direct superior, but Roy acquiesced. When his gaze finally met hers, she continued, face resolute. “I made my choices. I left my old life because there was nothing there that I wanted to keep. Nothing but you. I can’t look back. We both have to move forward with the decisions that we’ve made.”

“Yes,” he conceded. “I know that you’re right.” Of course he knew that she was right. It didn’t make the truth any harder to swallow. “And you’re going to follow me to hell.”

“I think...” she paused and he realized that she was laboring to form the thoughts that were in her mind into words. “I think that this is hell, sir.”

His interest piqued and he lay down on his side so that he was on the same level as her. Her gaze flickered over the length of him and he realized what the implication of his simple action was. By laying on his side next to her, he was showing how he considered her as an equal. He ranked above her, that was certain, but she had power over him. She was the only person who he trusted with his back- the only person who could keep him moving forward, and the only person who could kill him if he didn’t go in the right direction. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... I think that the world that we live in is hell. The war, the Promised Day… The things that we’ve seen and what we’ve done… and it could always get worse. We’re young and the road in front of us is so long. We’re in positions where anything could happen.”

“I see.” Entranced, his eyes searched her face. “So we’re living in hell. How do we get out of it?”

“We have to act,” she told him softly. “No more following orders. We have to make the right choices, with deliberate actions. Then we can improve our lives. That’s the only way that we can get out.”

Her words gave him light. He dreamed of a future where he could finally be at peace. He had to rebuild Ishval first, and then restore the country to be a democracy. Beyond that, he didn’t know. He couldn’t be so selfish to desire to be happy, but maybe there was some way…

Roy laid his hand down in the space between them, and as she looked into his eyes, Riza laid her hand on top, and her fingers wove with his.

“It’s going to be a long road,” he whispered.

“I’m ready,” she answered with a steady gaze _._

She didn’t need to say any more. _Now_ was the perfect moment. He had to tell her. “Hawkeye...” His throat felt dry, but he continued. He had to continue. “I need to talk with you about something.”

Immediately she drew back, folding her limbs close to her body. It appeared to him that somehow she anticipated his words, but then she had grown to read him so well. “What?” Her eyebrows were drawn together, her face was pale, and her breath was shallow. For once he couldn’t decipher the expression on her face- it was foreign to him.

He swallowed, shook his head, and looked away- anywhere but at her. “Nothing… it’s nothing.”

Riza rolled over onto her back. “It’s getting late, sir.”

“Yes, you’re right.” He slipped out of her bed, turning his back to her. “Good night, Lieutenant.”

“Good night, sir.”

He exited her moonlit room and returned to his, which was pitch dark. Crawling into his bed, he sighed and tried to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter Five

AN: I'm so sorry that this chapter took so long! I hit a bit of rough patch with this one. It's a lot longer than the other chapters that I've written so far so I hope that you all consider it worth the wait! While there's some romance in this chapter there's a LOT of angst coming up- I'm trying to build a slow burn and the romance in this chapter was necessary to the big emotional climax later. Many thanks to my beta, pen n' notebook, who was so patient with all of the edits that I needed. I hope that you like this chapter- if you do, please review! I nearly gave up on this story until I received some very kind reviews that urged me to keep going. They really motivate me to keep writing!

* * *

The next night he came into her room again. Riza knew that it was him from the series of raps from his knuckles against the wooden door. It was a rhythm that she immediately recognized- two long taps and two short ones. It was a long time since she heard the sound, because he used it on the door of her room in her family home when they used to meet at night.  _Let me in_ , it said.

Her heartbeat quickened. She moved to the door and opened it, and sure enough Roy Mustang was standing there.

He looked nervous, she noticed immediately. His shoulders hunched slightly as his gaze flickered from her face to her bare feet on the floor. It was a side of him that only she was privy to- far from the competent, confident officer that he showed to the rest of the world.

She stepped aside to invite him in. A small grin upturned his lips at one corner of his mouth and he nodded in thanks. He looked towards the chair in the corner, which was innocently sitting in the dark, untouched by the moonlight streaming in from her window. She saw his gaze and hesitated, searching her feelings. The  _proper_  action would be to let him take the chair. But the chair and the bed were so far apart, and Riza realized that she wanted him to be close to her. It felt natural- it felt  _right-_ \- to be by his side, even if it meant breaching military protocol.

So she shut the door behind him and touched his arm, bringing his attention to hers. She tilted her head in the direction of her bed, which they knew was big enough to comfortably seat the both of them. The smile returned to his mouth and he followed her across the room, crawling into the bed opposite her. They both settled in, backs to the headboard.

"Poor Fuery is getting a sunburn," he noted finally.

"I saw. He's not used to the sun here." After all, the Sergeant was too young to serve when the military occupied Ishval. "Although I'm getting burnt too."

She turned and rested her weight on her shoulder against the headboard to outstretch her arms towards him. In the silver moonlight they both could see that the back of her hands were colored pink.

Roy took her hands in his, and his thumbs rested against her knuckles. "I can't help you with that. I didn't bring a single pair of gloves with me."

She watched him. "I always have a pair of your gloves on me, just in case. But you know that I can't wear anything on my hands that would impede the movements of my fingers."

His thumbs slipped slightly lower to rest on the callouses on her middle fingers, where the guns would rest in her grip. "I suppose both of us have to use our hands as weapons."

"Yes, sir." Her eyes were soft as she looked at his face. "I suppose that you're right."

He didn't meet her gaze. Instead his eyes were trained on their hands together. Their skin tones were different, but his digits were rough in the same place as hers, where he snapped his fingers together.

Without comment, Riza let him hold her hands. She relaxed her arms and let the weight of her hands rest in his.

After a long moment he folded her hands together and placed them gingerly on the covers between them.

His eyes returned to her face. "Your hair is tangled," he observed.

"You don't have room to talk, sir." She teased him, eyeing his rakish raven locks, but still she raised one hand to smooth her long blonde strands against the side of her head. "It does get rather unkempt by the morning," she admitted.

Hesitantly, he reached to finger a tendril. "Can I braid it?"

Her eyebrows rose fractionally, but still she said, "Yes."

The crooked smile returned to his face. "I need a comb."

She nodded and slipped off the bed to pad over to her suitcase. After a minute of rummaging, she produced a hairbrush and an elastic. She returned to the bed and handed him the objects before twisting her body so that she was seated in front of him, sitting cross-legged, so that her back was turned to him.

He gathered her hair in one hand and began to gently rake it with the brush. "I like your hair this length," he told her.

"Do you?" He hadn't commented on her hair since she started to grow it out. "I'm actually thinking about cutting it again. It's much more practical to keep it short."

"That's why I like it. It's nice to see an aspect of you that isn't so utilitarian." His tone was teasing. "Am I being too rough with you?"

"No, not at all." In fact, be was being very gentle, very… tender. The sensitive skin of her head tingled pleasantly with his manipulations. He set down the brush by her side and she realized not only that by sitting in front of him that she was completely vulnerable to him, but also that their positions didn't bother her at all. And why should it? Her trust in him was complete and absolute.

Riza's hair had long gone unnoticed by those around her and she considered the state of her visage to be completely unremarkable. Therefor she simply wasn't used to any kind of personal attention. But curiously she found it to her liking, perhaps because of the person who was doting on her. There was no one else that she would allow to be so intimate with her body. Her lips parted silently as the tips of his fingers grazed her scalp before he combed them through her hair, checking for knots.

He seemed to be satisfied because he used both hands to collect her hair off of her shoulders and began to slowly plait. "I have to warn you, I'm a little rusty. It's been about twenty years since I've done this."

"Then I won't report you to the Fuhrer if you do a bad job of it, sir," she teased.

"You're so kind, Lieutenant." His movements were unsteady and unsure, but still he continued.

Riza kept her head still as he manipulated her hair. "Who taught you how to do this?"

"Clara. She told me that women like a man who is sensitive to their feminine needs." He paused his motions for a moment, then finished the braid by twisting the elastic around the ends of her locks. "Did it work?"

"Every woman in Central seems to think it does, sir." She answered, shifting her body so that they were facing again.

Roy clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me, Lieutenant."

A smile played at her lips. "Just reporting the truth, sir."

"Noted." The playful tone left his voice as his eyes locked onto hers. Even in the brightness of the moonlight, his eyes were so dark. His voice dropped. "You know that there's only one woman's opinion that I care about."

His deep voice swept through her body like a warm wave, and her thighs twitched from the heat that radiated through her core. Riza couldn't look away from the deep black pools of his eyes. They were boundless in their intensity and she was drawn into their depths. She shifted to alleviate the hot pressure between her hips, which brought their bodies even closer.

He was quick to catch her chin with his fingertips, but then he was very still, his eyes never leaving hers. Riza realized that he was waiting for her. He wasn't going to proposition her and he wouldn't make the first move. He was going to allow her come to him if she wanted him.

Need throbbed inside her body, and she found that she didn't want to resist it. She wanted him so badly that she thought that her resolve, which had been tempered and hardened by long years of self-preservation, might break. He was many things- The Flame Alchemist, The Hero of Ishval, Colonel Roy Mustang. But in that moment she remembered Roy, the boy that she had grown up with, who she taught to swim and skip stones across the lake. He was the boy who transmuted little trinkets for her as gifts, which she had shyly accepted. They had both grown so much since those halcyon days at her family's house. Every moment that should have tempered their relationship- his leaving to be a soldier, meeting in the hell that had been Ishval, her taking the position as his aide and thus accepting his rank above her- only strengthened their bond. They had not grown apart, but together.

Maybe a little contact wouldn't be so bad, she reasoned. Surely she had enough self-control that she could allow herself just a small connection with him. Just a little bit… just a tiny amount…

Riza leaned forward and captured his lips with hers.

The kiss lasted for just a moment before she pulled back and their eyes locked again. It was too short, it wasn't enough. His hand had slipped down to grip her shoulder, purposely bypassing her tender throat that had stopped them just a few nights before, and she felt the slivers of his nails through the material of her pajamas. She watched his adam's apple bob as he searched her face, and he heaved a rough sigh when he interpreted her expression. They both wanted more.

But then, together, they broke apart. His hands left her body to grip the sheets at his side and she found herself aching from the loss of him.

"Do you want me to go?" He whispered.

She hesitated a moment before shaking her head.

"Do you want me to stay?"

A nod.

"Okay," he murmured.

Silently, they both settled onto the bed, lifting the sheets so that they could lie beneath them. Facing each other, they found each other's gaze. Riza laid her hand on the middle of the length between them, and he covered her hand with his. Satisfied, she closed her eyes, and let her guard down so that exhaustion could creep in.

Before she fell asleep, she felt a soft touch on her skin. Two short taps, and two long ones.

* * *

It was a knock on her door the next morning that woke the both of them. Roy and Riza both sat up immediately, looking at each other before springing from the bed.

"Yes?" Riza called out, voice creaking just slightly. She hoped whoever was on the other side of the door didn't notice.

"Lieutenant?" Fuery's voice sounded embarrassed. "We didn't want to wake you but it's oh-ten-hundred and we can't find the Colonel..."

Riza grabbed her wristwatch from her night stand and stared down at the face before remembering its uselessness. The sun was already climbing high in the sky outside her window and she wondered why it didn't wake her. It wasn't like her to sleep so late.

She looked over in Roy's direction and saw that he was trying to formulate a plan. For once, she was a step ahead.

"He's in here," she called to Fuery. "His shower is broken so he's going to use mine."

Roy was already crossing the room and entering the bathroom. After a second she heard the shower start.

"Oh, okay. Well we have breakfast ready when you guys come down." The creaky floorboards in the hallway belied the young sergeant's movements as he left the outside of her room and descended the stairs. When she was sure that he was out of earshot, Riza turned to Roy.

For a moment they just looked at each other before he cleared his throat. "Good morning."

She echoed the sentiment. And then: "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I feel great actually. What about you?"

"Yes, I do too." Emboldened, she took the steps necessary to be in his personal space. He looked down at her, waiting for her next movement.

Riza didn't hesitate. Lifting herself on her toes so that she was a few inches taller, she kissed him. He returned it in earnest, his fingers weaving through the loose braid in her hair.

Again, she kept the kiss short. When it ended, his fingers drifted over her cheek and down the curve of her lips.

"We shouldn't let this continue," she told him.

Roy nodded. "But we don't want to stop."

Riza could only nod in return. For all of her hardened reserve, she didn't think that she could stop what they had started. It had been such a long time coming, building every moment since they had come to know each other, and now it seemed to be an unstoppable force. Their lives were so entwined that they could not be parted, and now they had ascended to a new level.

It frightened her. It excited her. And he was right- she didn't want to end this new plane of being.

"So we'll have to be careful," she said finally.

A small grin cracked his lips. "So you're agreeing with me?"

Any other woman would have answered in petulance. But not Riza Hawkeye. "I am agreeing with you on the condition that we cannot, under any circumstances, get caught."

"Then we won't," he answered, suddenly solemn. "I'm not going to give you up."

"I'm never going to be parted from you," she answered resolutely.

"So that's that." He stepped back into the bathroom. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to use your shower."

She exited the room, but not before catching a glimpse of his bare chest as he stripped off his shirt.

She bit her lip. It was going to be hard to keep her resolve, but she could do it.

Right?

* * *

Over the days, she noticed a difference. She found that she slept sounder knowing that he was close to her side, and she noticed a change in him as well: his eyes were brighter and his steps were lighter, like he was more rested than he had been in a long time.

It was enough for her to let the engagements continue. Every night he came to her room, and every night she let him into her bed, which was big enough for both of them.

"Are you comfortable with this?" He asked her one night after daring to place his hand on her hip.

"Yes," she murmured, "but we can't go any further than we already have. If we get caught doing anything more we'll be discharged for sure."

He nodded, knowing that she was right. They had already blitzed headfirst over the line of what the military considered decent with just a few kisses and touches. Sex was simply a luxury that the two of them could not afford to indulge. If they lost their positions in the military they would never be able to reform the country. They would have to be content with the innocent gestures they already shared.

Already their simple encounters were enough to tip the balance of propriety from safety into more dangerous waters. While she was accustomed to make sure that he was always in her field of vision, now she noticed that his dark gaze followed her body wherever she went. Their eyes were always drawn to each others' and locked occasionally before they forced themselves to look away. And even though they were constantly keeping busy with their work in the region, every day something happened that strained the boundaries of their working relationship.

On Wednesday, while walking the dirt streets and she tripped on a loose stone. Roy caught her, and instead of releasing her immediately he held her close to his chest, looking down at her. Her breath caught in her throat as she became lost in his gaze, and their heartbeats thrummed together. After a long moment, when he finally let her go, she fought to regain her steely composure.

On Saturday, after a long day, they stood in the kitchen together to make dinner. His hands dirty from the grime of the streets, Roy rubbed his cheek and left a swatch of dirt on his skin. Without thinking, she raised her hand to wipe it away, and their eyes caught. They stood close for a minute or so before she removed her palm from his cheek. Then they continued, going on to make dinner like nothing happened.

On Thursday, in the early morning when she left her room after showering, she thought that everyone in the house was asleep. She had a towel wrapped around her body and one in her hand to squeeze all of the moisture out of her hair when she bumped into him in the dark hallway. He gripped her elbows to steady her and the touch of his hands on her naked skin sent a shock through her body. She knew that he felt it too from the small gasp that escaped his lips. Swallowing, she brushed past him to go into her own room.

The men surely noticed. Riza saw them watching her and their commanding officer intently whenever the two of them were close together, although when she caught one of them looking, they quickly shuffled away like nothing happened. While she knew that she trusted them not to say anything to anyone about the encounters that they saw, discomfort pooled deep in her stomach. Despite their promise to each other to not let their relationship spiral out of their control, it seemed to be doing just that.

But she continued to move forward in her tasks. Regardless of how she felt about the colonel, she was still his adjutant and bodyguard, and she would never shirk those duties. That, and rebuilding Ishval, were too important to not take seriously. So she had to subdue all of her untoward thoughts while they were on duty and she did that by throwing herself fully into the restoration. It worked against her, though- every time she was fully invested in the point of their trip, she became blind to her own feelings; and small, intimate incidents like the brush of their hands together and a meaningful aside glance turned into moments where her very breath was knocked from her lungs.

So when the day finally came that they were set to return to Central, she found herself loathe to leave. There was still a lot of work to do in the area but they had done all of the immediate diplomatic duties and could now start the long process of rebuilding the land. Her hesitation to leave the desert area was shared by her commanding officer- the night before they were set to leave, they both settled into her bed, and he turned to her.

"Can I hold you?" He asked plainly. Over the last two weeks the moon had waned outside her window, but there was still some dusky illumination that trickled in and cast a dim light on his face. She could easily read his eyes and saw the hesitation that laid there.

Wordlessly, she turned over onto her other side and settled in so that her back was to his chest. Even with her tattooed, scarred, ruined back, she trusted him to cover her. She felt his heart beat solidly against her shoulder and he curled one arm around her waist.

They both knew that it was the last night that they could indulge themselves with such intimate shared company. He pressed his cheek against her hair, and that was how they fell asleep. How ironic it was that years ago Ishval had been a place of hate and desolation, and now for the two of them it was a safe haven. In the morning they would have to leave Daliha and go back to Central, and plan how they could continue their trysts.

But that night they were content to just have each other.


	6. Chapter Six

AN: Thank you to my amazing beta, pen n' notebook! She has an awesome new story that everyone should check out. I'm sorry about the delay. I have most of the story written out but I'm struggling with inspiration. If you like this chapter, please review! It really fuels me!

 

* * *

 

 

The earliest train out of Daliha departed at noon, and Riza was glad to be inside the cool train car rather than standing in the hot sun.

She stood on her toes, but try as she might, she couldn’t reach the overhead shelf. The suitcase threatened to slip from her grip as she adjusted it in her hands, thinking that maybe if she twisted it another way she could make it. But the side of her luggage just barely touched the edge of the rack.

A warm hand covered one of hers and she glanced over her shoulder to see her superior officer behind her. Roy wasn’t looking at her; instead his gaze was focused on the rack above them. His chest pressed against her back and his breath stirred her hair at the crown of her head. He took a step forward and the pressure of his hips against against Riza’s flanks made her breath catch in her throat. With a gentle shove, he pushed the suitcase onto the shelf.

Her heartbeat fluttered in her wrist as his fingers brushed over her knuckles and the back of her hand, so close to her pulse point.

Someone coughed behind them and she turned to see a Havoc, Falman, Breda, and Fuery lined up. They looked out the window to their left, at the wooden floor, at the steel ceiling- anywhere but the officers right in front of them. Riza quickly entered the compartment and took one of the seats in next to the window. Roy took the other across from her. She twisted to adjust her holster underneath the loose jacket so that it didn’t poke into her side, aware that her superior officer’s eyes lingered on the tight turtleneck that she wore- or rather, the curves that the fabric gripped. Heat ascended in her body but she forced herself to deny the rising lust.

Riza retrieved her book from her purse and opened it to the last page that she had marked, but as she stared down at the page she realized she didn’t recognize where she was in the plot. Frowning, she flipped back a few pages, then a few pages more. She hadn’t been paying much attention to the story when she was reading on the trip going into town.

“I can’t wait to get back,” Havoc said to the group. “I’m looking for a new girlfriend. Now that I have my legs back I want to jump back into the dating pool.”

Breda groaned. “Didn’t you learn from the last woman that you dated? She was a humunculus and you ended up paralyzed.”

Falman spoke up. “And the woman before that dumped you for her roommate. Her female roommate. She told you that you made her realize how much she hated men.”

“And the woman before that threatened you with a carving knife when you told her that you were moving to Central,” Fuery supplied.

The blond shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a fool for love.”

“What about Rebecca?” Riza asked. She couldn’t help but be drawn into the conversation, which was much more interesting than her book.

Havoc shuddered. “Catalina? She scares me.”

“You’re afraid of strong women,” Roy interjected.

A smile played at her lips. “You like a challenge, Jean.”

The second lieutenant laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. “I do! You know me so well, Hawkeye. You know, that reminds me that you told me once that you’d let me take you on a date.”

Roy’s shoulders stiffened. Havoc yelped in pain as Breda, who sat across from him, shoved his foot into the blond’s instep.

Riza blinked, her gaze scanning the faces of the men in the compartment. They all looked embarrassed, save for the colonel, who turned to out the window. He tapped his index finger against his knee- a tic that he had when he was anxious. She focused on Havoc’s face and decided to keep her tone light as she reminded him of their actual conversation. “You have a bad memory, Jean. You brought that up all on your own when we got drunk at that dive bar after we busted the Deluca case.”

“Ah… yeah… sorry, Lieutenant.” He ducked his head, chuckling. “Do you think that Cata- _Rebecca_ is too good for me?”

This time, Riza actually gave him a small smile. “No, I don’t. You have a big heart. And I can tell you a secret if you promise that you didn’t hear it from me: she likes tall men.”

He grinned brightly. “Well, at least I have that going for me. Maybe I should give her a call when we get back. Hey, can you give me her number?”

She nodded and reached into her purse to find a pencil and scrap of paper. After she printed the digits she handed the paper to him, and he looked them over with a smile. “Thanks, Hawkeye. You’re really special. Everyone thinks so.” When Falman elbowed him he emitted an aggrieved grunt. “What? I can say that.”

“Thank you, Jean,” she demurred, and turned her attention back to her book.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was far too long before the train reached the station in Central. When they all stood, Riza stretched and smiled satisfactorily when her joints popped. This time Havoc helped her with her suitcase. He retrieved it easily and passed it to her with a boyish grin. She smiled back, took the suitcase, and started to follow the rest of the men off of the train, but a tug on her jacket stopped her.

She turned to see Roy, who grasped her wrist and towed her back into the compartment. He took her suitcase from her hand and set it aside with his. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the rest of the team congregating outside of the train window.

“They’ll wonder where we are,” she murmured as he gently gripped her elbows and pulled her close.

“They’re big boys. They’ll be okay on their own for a minute.” He looked down at her, and released one of her arms to reach up and brush her bangs from her face.

She grasped the front of his button-down shirt and brought him closer. “Is there something that you wanted to tell me, sir?”

“Yes,” he murmured, and tilted up her chin so that their lips met.

His mouth was hot and inviting. As the tension ascended, he grasped her hip with strong hand and held her tightly so that her body was flush with his… but only for one short minute. Their lips parted and Riza took a measured, shaky breath, and licked her lips. His dark eyes followed the movement of her tongue.

“That wasn’t telling me something,” she teased huskily. “That was doing something.”

He expelled a breath and smiled back at her. “Sometimes they’re the same.”

She was about to retort when she heard hushed chatter in the corridor outside the compartment. Tearing herself away from Roy, she strode to the door, just in time to see a flash of military blue disappear down the hall and exit the train.

When Riza turned back to him, her face was pale.

“No one knows who we are,” he assured her. “We’re not in uniform.”

“Right.” She cleared her head and forced herself to think logically. They were in civilian clothes on a train with civilian passengers. No one had any reason to suspect that the two of them were breaking any kind of regulations. They looked like any other man and woman sharing an intimate moment. “We still should get going.”

“You’re right.” Roy handed her suitcase to her and led her off of the train, and took her hand to help her down the precarious steps.

Outside the station there was just one car waiting for the group of them. Roy frowned. “Damn, I told them that we would need two cars.” He turned to the rest of the group. “You men go on ahead and take the car. I’ll get a cab with Lieutenant Hawkeye.”

He stepped closer to Riza, and their arms brushed.

The rest of the men looked around at each other, and Breda cleared his throat. “Actually, sir, I’ll ride with Lieutenant Hawkeye.”

Roy frowned deeper. “I don’t think that would work.”

“Hawkeye and I live the closest together, sir.” Breda continued. “With all due respect, it makes the most sense for us to drive together.”

“I’ll ride with Lieutenant Breda,” Riza said, turning to her superior officer.

Roy looked at her and sighed. “Alright. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” they both answered. As the four men piled into the company car, Riza and Breda walked down the distance of the station to hail a cab.

She waited to speak to Breda until they were both in the back of the cab and had given the driver their addresses. She turned to the second lieutenant. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why do you think that I want to talk to you about something?”

Riza stared at him. “While you and I live only a couple blocks apart, Central Market is between us, and there’s always a lot of traffic in that area. It’s only about a ten minute drive between where I live and where-” She cut herself off abruptly and turned her head towards the cab driver. They weren’t alone. “Where the colonel lives. It would take twice as long to get between our apartments than it would for me to get to the colonel’s house.”

“Right. I should have known that you would see right through that.” The short man sighed. “It’s actually the colonel that I want to talk to you about.”

“What about?” She asked skeptically. Lieutenant Breda was her friend and she had no reason to suspect him of anything untoward, but her defenses were raised.

“Well… it’s about the two of you, really. Me and the other guys noticed that the two of you have gotten really… close.”

She folded her arms over her chest and tried to appear neutral. “The colonel and I have always been close. We’ve known each other a long time and work in close contact every day.”

“With all due respect, Lieutenant, you know that’s not what I meant.” He watched her with a level gaze. “We all know that something is going on between the two of you. For one thing, you can’t keep your eyes off each other. For another thing, you’re always touching. We heard the two of you talking in your room every night in Ishval. Those walls were really thin, you know. And then, just now, we saw you kissing on the train!”

Her face burned and she had to look away from him. “And you’re telling me this because you’re worried about us, is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Look, we all want both of you to be happy,” he pulled at his collar awkwardly, “and the two of you seemed happier together in Ishval than you have in a long time, if not ever. But that doesn’t change the fact that there are laws in place that explicitly state that an officer and her superior cannot have any kind of relationship that is not completely platonic.”

“We know that.” Did they _ever_ know that. Her chest was starting to feel tight. “We have the situation under control.”

“Do you though?” His eyes searched her face. “Because it looks to me-- it looks to all of us-- that the two of you are getting reckless. Maybe that was okay in Ishval when the four of us were looking out for you, but that’s not going to fly here in Central where the military is everywhere. One little slip could lead to a court martial for either of you, and then where would you be? You can’t get to the top that way, and we can’t shield you from the world, no matter how much we wish that we could.”

His words pulled at her emotions. It was her job to be the protector. Had she really been so selfish that she had cast off that responsibility for someone else to bear in her place?

The _fear_ returned and gripped Riza’s heart like a vice. He was right-- she had lost control. Worse than that, she willingly relinquished control of the situation to chase her desire. The colonel was her responsibility. She had to keep him on the right track. She had to think about the future. She couldn’t allow any mistakes. And putting him in a position where he could lose everything was the biggest mistake that she could make.

Her stomach turned.

“You’re right, Heymans,” she said finally. “I’m sorry that you all had to be witness to our behavior. The situation won’t go any further. Thank you for your concern.”

“Don’t mention it.” He watched her carefully. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, of course.” She looked out the window as the car pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building. She handed Breda a few bills for the fare, and moved to leave, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. His eyes were sincere. “We really do want you to be happy.”

“I know,” she murmured.

She couldn’t muster up any kind of a smile for him as she slipped out the door.


	7. Chapter Seven

AN: Sorry about the delay, everyone!

 

* * *

 

 

The first day that they were to report back to Central Headquarters, Riza was late. Although she chided herself, she really wasn’t to blame- it was her watch that was at fault. She always was an early riser but in the morning when she woke she was so tired that she couldn’t bring herself to lift her head off of her pillow. Her watch was sitting on her nightstand and she checked it for the time. It told her that she still had twenty minutes before she had to get up.

So she settled back into her comfortable bed and dozed.

It wasn’t until she heard the familiar wheeze of the breaks of the A8 bus outside her window that she woke with a start. She threw back the sheets from her bed and stood in front of the window in time to see her bus rumble off down the street. Cursing, she stripped off her pajamas and ran to the bathroom. She took the quickest shower of her life and dressed hurriedly. There wasn’t any time to eat breakfast. After refilling Hayate’s bowl and taking him on a quick walk outside so that he could relieve himself, she made it out the door in time to make the next bus to Central Headquarters.

Adapting a stride that was quicker than her normal, measured pace, she navigated the long stark hallways in an attempt to reach her destination as hastily as possible. While rounding the corner where the engineering offices were situated she nearly ran into a gaggle of young sergeants that were congregating in the middle of the corridor. She apologized to them and they nodded and smiled, but when her back was to them she heard a giggle.

“ _Rushing off to see her Colonel lover,”_ the brunette officer whispered to the rest of the group, who erupted in a cackle.

Riza turned sharply on her heel. “What is your name and rank?” She demanded.

The offending woman was taller than Riza but she shrunk under the lieutenant’s sharp gaze. “Master Sergeant Ilsa Tuttor,” she uttered, staring at her toes.

Riza made a mental note. “And who is your C.O.?”

The younger woman’s voice grew even smaller. “Major Cyril Canmore.”

“It’s a crime to slander about a superior officer, even if it is just speculation. I am going to report this incident to the Major. If I hear you gossiping about Colonel Mustang’s personal life again, then I will file a disciplinary action myself. Do I make myself clear?”

The group nodded quickly, mumbling a chorus of “yes ma’ams”.

She raised her chin. “Then you’re dismissed.”

The lot of them hurried off. Riza pursed her lips and moved on.

_How could they have known_ , she wondered. When they had been on the train there had been that glimpse of an officer in uniform… but there was no way that their secret could have been revealed. It was a civilian train. But then, Colonel Mustang was a widely recognized man. His personal life was always a source of intrigue, among officers and civilians. Had she, as his subordinate, been identified?

Shame burned in her core. Riza had enough pride to consider herself a consummate soldier and professional. She never thought that she would be so low as to purposely break the law, even to do something that she wanted so badly, and had wanted for suck a long time.

Now she was aware of all of the eyes that were on her as she walked. Officers of all ranks stopped to stare at her as she passed and whispered to each other behind their hands. She kept her head high and pretended like she didn’t notice, but each murmur cut deep. She was used to a little gossip - after all, she was the second in command to the youngest commanding officer in the military- but it was worse today than it had ever been before. The knowing smiles mocked and belittled her. She felt her chest grew tight and seemed capable of only taking the smallest breaths.

So Riza entered the office in a foul mood, in the context of her usual unflappable demeanor of course. With an inaudible huff she sat down on her seat, aware that everyone in the room was looking at her. She was never late, or even just on time. She was always at least 10 minutes early to make coffee for the group and tea for herself.

Taking her seat, she looked up at the men sitting around her, who were all staring. She stared back harshly, and thoroughly chastised, they all turned back to whatever paperwork they needed to complete. A large stack of requisition forms had to be completed by the end of the day, so she was ready to begin. Opening the drawer underneath her desk to grab a fountain pen, she stopped suddenly.

Sitting in the drawer was a slim black box, about seven by two inches. It was plain and unadorned, and light in her hands as she pulled it out. She glanced around the room but no one seemed to notice her. Fuery took off his glasses to clean them with the fabric of his jacket, Falman squirmed in his seat, Breda pulled at his collar, and Havoc fiddled with the packet of cigarettes that he kept at his desk. Even the colonel appeared to be invested in his work. Looking back down at the object in her hands, she opened it slowly, and laid the top of the box down on the desk.

It was a watch. It looked just like the one she wore now except the one in the box was brand new. She picked it up, studied it, and glanced at the clock in the corner of the room. The time on the face matched the time on the clock, and she suspected that it was purposely synchronized with a certain silver pocket watch.

Riza cast a glance at the colonel and saw that he was watching her out of the corner of his eyes. When she looked at him, he grinned, and she smiled in return before he turned his attention back to the report that he was scribbling. The smile stayed on her face as she slipped her old watch into the trash bin by her feet and strapped the new one on her wrist. She imagined the _tick, tick, tick_ against her pulse beating in time with the watch that he kept in his pocket, close to his body. A warm feeling fluttered in her chest.

But she could not forget Breda’s words, and the scrutinizing gazes were fresh in her mind. The smile died on her lips. With a heavy heart, she reached into her desk to retrieve a pen.

 

* * *

 

 

Towards the end of the day, when their fingertips were dry from turning piles and piles of pages, Riza stood behind the colonel’s desk and showed him where he needed to sign on the last stack of paperwork. She was very careful to not touch him and maintain a respectful distance, and she recognized that for his part he did his best to not look at her face when she had to lean in close to point at a particular line. Still, being so near him was disconcerting, and she almost jumped when the phone on his desk rang.

Sitting up straight, Roy gasped the phone and held it to his ear. “This is Colonel Mustang.”

Riza speculated who was on the other end of the line as she watched his face draw with concern. “Yes, I understand,” he intoned. “We’ll be right there.”

When he hung up the phone the other men paused in their work to look up at him. “The Fuhrer wants to see us,” he told her, sitting back in his chair to look back at her.

“ _Us?_ ” Riza questioned, not letting her voice or face showing any signs of worry, although she knew that he could sense it. She ran through all of the scenarios in her head why Fuhrer Grumman would want to see the both of them. While she and her grandfather shared a friendly familial bond (they met for lunch twice a month, on Wednesdays), they maintained a strictly professional relationship at work. Usually he would ask to see the colonel and she would accompany him as his adjutant, but he never specifically requested her presence. Not until now, at least.

Her stomach sank. He could have asked for her to come along if they were both in trouble.

He nodded and tented his fingers tensely for a moment before standing. “Well, I guess we should get going.”

“Yes, sir,” She followed him through the office and out the door.

The Fuhrer’s office was a floor above theirs and they walked in silence. When they reached the silent stairway, Roy turned to her, and placed his hand on her arm. But then the door the floor above them slammed open and the loud chatter of two officers filled the space. Both commander and subordinate parted quickly, and after a beat started up the stairs. Riza watched his hand clench and fall to his side.

When they reached the office, he reached for the door handle, then paused. “Lieutenant,” he began, and she raised her head so that their eyes met.

“Yes, sir?”

“As far as he knows, we haven’t done anything wrong.” His tone was firm but it rang hollow. He had said it not just to make her feel better, but to convince himself.

She just nodded silently, and he opened the door.


End file.
